


This Means War

by GothicWolf03



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-26 10:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5000863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicWolf03/pseuds/GothicWolf03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara adopts an alley cat that wants to get rid of Jacob.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a cute mini-story about Clara's cat and Jacob. I feel like Clara would be your usual hyperactive little sister that won't seem to leave anyone alone, but in a cute way XD

Jacob could only gape at the dirtied creature that was wrapped in Clara's embrace, scratching his head in confusion.

 _The hell?_  

"Clara, what is the meaning of this?"

The little brunette brought the cat closer to her chest, her fingers soothingly rubbing over the creature's chin. "I found him outside the tavern. I was thinking that maybe we could keep him."

"That is _not_ a pet. Looks more like a filthy mongrel that desperately needs a bath." He shuddered from the cat's narrowed eyes, clearly the cat wasn't too fond of him. Not that he cared; he hated cats anyway.

"No he isn't! Don't make Mr. Tinkles angry."

He couldn't restrain his laughter; the corners of his eyes scrunched up as he boisterously banged on the surface of an unoccupied table, desperately holding his aching sides. "Oh god, that's the most ridiculous name I've ever heard!"

She frowned, the freckles on her face accentuating her frustrated expression. "Fine, be like that. I'm sure the others will appreciate Mr. Tinkles more than you." Clara rushed out back, not acknowledging the elder twin that she happened to bump in to.

Evie glanced back at the angry teenager, her eyebrows raised from her unusual temperament. "What just happened? And did I just see a cat?"

Jacob waved her off. "Just another one of Clara's silly ideas. Apparently, she wants to adopt the thing."

"I don't see why not. It could be of use to us one day, if trained properly."

"Why is it that everyone seems to disagree with me? That thing is loaded with diseases, it'll probably kill us more than the Templars ever did." Jacob downed the last drop of his beer mug, sighing in content. Staring down at his glass, he frowned when he saw that he had finished the drink. "I need more ale. Clara!"

The young barmaid returned from the back room without the cat, though she refused to offer him a kind smile as she took his mug away with an indignant 'hmph'.

Evie suppressed a giggle from the hilarity of the spectacle, though her mouth twitched just a fraction. "Seems she won't be coming back anytime soon."

"Doesn't matter." Jacob begrudgingly put on his top hat before shrugging his coat on, annoyed by the girl's hostile attitude. "The kid will forget about it tomorrow. She can't stay mad forever."

* * *

Clara, he thought, was the most unforgiving little girl he had ever met.

His assumption had been wrong; the brunette had been ignoring his presence for the past week. Initially, Jacob had relished in the once in a lifetime miracle of the usual annoying girl not pestering him like she normally does, but Clara had stopped serving him drinks, which was something that really pissed him off.

He couldn't bear to part with alcohol, and Clara was by far the best server, though he wasn't going to apologize to the girl for bringing home a parasite. He fully reminded himself that she was the one being unreasonable here, she should be the one apologizing to him for having him watch out for her safety and making him worry.

Nope, it wasn't his fault at all.

Staring back at the mirror, Jacob lathered the shaving soap across his jawline, gingerly patting the half portion of his face before raising the razor at eye-level.

With all the planning with the Rooks and assassinating the Templars, Jacob almost never had time to himself, especially shaving. His stubble had changed into an unruly beard over the past week, making him look unrecognizable to others. Evie had constantly pestered him about his appearance, lecturing on and on about how a leader should look presentable instead of some homeless man from the streets.

He didn’t mind at first; if no one recognized him, then he would easily blend in with the crowd and not be hunted down. Though he was starting to get irritably itchy . . .

“Alrighty then.” He brought the sharp tool vertically down his face, humming a tune as he worked. He was so focused on his task that he failed to notice the intruder that sneakily entered the bathroom.

Only when he rinsed out the long razor and glance to his side did Jacob jump back from the cat’s presence, razor shielding his exposed torso.

“What do you want?” he spat.

The orange ball of fur only licked its mouth as it sat motionless, yellow eyes trained on the younger Frye sibling.

Jacob didn’t say anything, diverting his attention away from the creature as he attempted to continue with the other half of his beard. But when he shaved halfway down his first strip, a massive weight had pounced onto his body, making the male assassin scream bloody murder as he tumbled onto the floor, knocking the washbin down with him.

“Agh!” His large hands shoved the cat off of his neck, heavily breathing as he glanced down at the various red scratches across his upper chest. “Shit!”

When he peered back at the cat, his eyes widened at the object inside its mouth while his hands reached for his naked throat. His necklace was missing.

“Oi! That’s mine, you devil!” His eyes flashed wildly; he quickly hoisted himself off the moist floor and made a grab for the cat.

The orange feline easily dodged his hands, dashing out of the bathroom and leaping on top of the railings of the staircase, with the Frye twin in hot pursuit.

Everyone at the tavern curiously observed the orange cat that bounced into view, shrieking when they saw a half-naked man, with shaving soap over his half-shaven face, trying to slaughter the cat with a pointed razor. They all jumped out of their seats as the madman made a swipe over their heads, rushing out of the tavern in a disorderly fashion in order to get away from him as far as possible.

Meanwhile, Jacob was beyond enraged when the cat kept moving to another location, wishing he had his pistol armed on him. “Wait until I get my hands on you, you miscreant! That’ll teach you to respect me!”

“Jacob!”

He stopped slicing at the cat, instead abandoning his weapon and lunging at the creature that sat on the counter top of the bar area. However, before he could harm the creature, two arms held his struggling form back.

“Not now Henry, I’m going to chop that thing to pieces and feed it to the _dogs_!”

“Will you calm yourself?” Evie replied, snatching her brother’s arm and shoving him down in a booth, thanking Henry before narrowing her eyes at her foolish brother. “Care to explain why you were terrorizing the people?”

“ _I_ wasn’t terrorizing anyone; that _vermin_ ,” he scathingly pointed to the cat that innocently licked its paw, “terrorized me! Look what he did to my body!”

The Indian man behind them faintly chuckled, bringing a hand to his mouth to hide his amusement when Evie pointedly stared back at him. She turned around and continued berating her brother. "That doesn't give you a reason to try and kill people with a _razor_! Honestly Jacob, have you ever tried being nice to it for once?"

"No, and I never will." He cautiously retracted his hand towards his necklace on the counter, glaring daggers at the cat as he rapidly swiped his pendant away. "That thing is _evil_. Mark my words Evie, if that cat doesn't go then I'll be the one to make sure it does!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to stop at two chapters, but this was too funny and so I decided to make this a three-chapter story XD

_Stupid Evie. Stupid cat_. Jacob adjusted the pendant around his neck, clasping the metal hook onto the ring. _There_.

After the whole escapade in the tavern, Jacob retreated back into his room to tend to his injuries after he finished shaving off the other beard. His muscular torso was clothed in a white cotton shirt and his usual green vest over it, effectively hiding the claw marks.

Strapping his weapons on his person, Jacob’s eyes lingered on the pistol in his hand, loading the gun before securing it within his coat. “Next time, he will get it.”

As he finished dressing, his brown-green eyes searched the entire room for his hat, confused to find it nowhere in sight. He riffled through the drawers, eyes widening when he found them all empty.

“No, no, no . . .” Crouching, the male assassin peeked under the bed, huffing in agitation as he found nothing but dust balls. “Where is it?!”

A faint scratch at the door halted Jacob in his search, his head slowly pivoting towards the sound. Wasting no time, he thrusted the door of the room off its hinges, seeing the devil with the rim of the hat in its mouth.

“Give it back, now!”

The cat continued staring at him, getting up from its hind legs and releasing the light object from its grasp. Without so much as a fight, Mr. Tinkles strutted out from his view.

“That was . . . surprisingly easy,” Jacob muttered, his eyes still holding their gaze to where the creature went. He quickly placed the hat on top of his head without looking what was inside.

Something dripped down his hair, and it took Jacob a second to snap out of his reverie to let his fingers weave through his damp locks. Bringing the unknown substance towards his nose, he immediately cringed from the acidic smell of the fluid, face turning red as he wiped his hand on his pant leg before running after the bloody devil.

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU!”

Jumping down the steps, the furious assassin spotted the cat leisurely sleeping on the table with its eyes closed. A sinister smirk formed on his face, quietly approaching the cat with glinting eyes.

“You messed with the wrong person,” he whispered, “I’m going to give you a long, painful death.”

His hand abruptly snatched a hold of the cat’s fur, ignoring the strained screech and hissing from the feline as Jacob went back to the kitchen. The struggling cat tried scratching at anything, but Jacob was smarter than to hold him close.

Kicking out a cardboard box from the floor, Jacob shoved the beast inside, dodging his face from Mr. Tinkles’ assault. He closed the lids shut, using his thick arm to hold down onto the top to prevent the box from moving. Jacob grabbed the duct tape next to all the other boxes, laughing in glee as he taped the entire top part.

“Ha, see how you get out of this one.” He violently shook the box for good measure, smiling from the cat’s strained hisses and futile hits. “Now, where to put you . . .”

* * *

 

“Mr. Tinkles,” Clara hollered, searching high and low for her beloved cat. “Where are you? Your food will get cold.”

She sighed in exasperation, failing to find her pet as she set the dead fish down on the table. It was bad enough that Jacob had ruined her tavern, but now her cat was missing?

_He better not have touched a hair on Mr. Tinkles, or else he’ll get it._

Clara brightly smiled when Henry returned from his mission, eagerly bouncing up to the older assassin as she tugged on his sleeve to get his attention. “Henry, have you seen Mr. Tinkles around here? It’s feeding time.”

“I can tell,” Henry scrunched his nose, finding the fishy odor unpleasant for his nose. “But to answer your question: no.”

The teenager huffed, crossing her arms across her chest. Her ears perked up when she heard faint mewing coming from the kitchen, instantly calling for the feline as she rushed into the room. As she surveyed the room, she noticed the supply closet slightly ajar, and the cat's meow increased.

Shoving the door aside, Clara gasped when she looked up at the cardboard box all the way on the high shelf, sealed shut with duct tape. A distant scratching noise was coming from the side of the box.

“JACOB!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

Waiting for almost a few minutes, Clara realized that the male assassin was probably in town with his gang, so she was alone with Henry at the moment. Wait . . .

“Henry! Can you come over here?” Clara asked, trying to position her feet on top of the shelves, only to hop off when she felt the furniture wobble incessantly.

“Clara, what’s going on?” The Indian assassin followed to where she had called, he too gazing at the moving box on the high shelf. “How did that get up there?”

“Nevermind that. Please, just get Mr. Tinkles before—” She cried out when the box stopped moving, the cat’s scratching receding. “Oh no!”

“Do not panic, I will get him out of there.”

“Hurry!”

She watched as Henry tried balancing on the teetering shelf, his foot stopping at the third shelf before reaching his hands out towards the box. His fingers only brushed the side of the box, the assassin gritting his teeth as he tried tip-toeing higher.

“Just a little bit further,” he grunted.

But when he stepped too high, the shelf groaned as it leaned towards him, causing the male assassin to yelp in surprise as he came crashing down with all the condiments and other supplies in storage. Clara had moved out of the way in time, she could only watch in front of her as the box launched off the shelf. She held her hands out, safely catching the sealed cardboard box as she pried open the sticky tape with rapid fingers. “Gotcha!”

Mr. Tinkles blinked from within, hopping out of the box as it furrowed closer to Clara’s body, relieved that it could finally breathe fresh air.

“Mr. Tinkles, I’m glad you’re safe.” She kissed the cat’s head, embracing the box closer to her body while the cat purred in content.

“Good, now how about helping me out of this mess?” said Henry from underneath the debris, groaning from the heavy weight on his entire body, and for ever agreeing to help Clara.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is the last chapter. I feel so sad that it's over, but it was good fun writing this :)
> 
> Thank you all for kudoing my work! It means a lot to me! I hope you enjoy this last installment of the story.
> 
> Enjoy!

To say Jacob was the luckiest man alive would be an understatement. No, he felt fucking _fantastic_.

Today’s victory against Dr. Elliotson heightened his spirits; he felt more confident than ever before, and he was sure that the Templars would gravel at their feet in no time after the mad doctor’s death. And to make matters even better, once he returned to the pub he knew that cat would be dead from being trapped inside that box without oxygen.

“Everything is going according to plan,” he chuckled, pushing aside the tavern doors, only to stop in dead silence from Clara’s disgruntled face in front of him.

The orange feline was nestled within her embrace, sneering at him through narrowed yellow eyes.

 _Oh bloody hell._ There was no way that the cat could’ve escaped from the box by itself, and he deducted that Clara must have released him in time before the beast could even choke on his last hairball. That, or he was somehow immortal, something that sent a shiver down his spine. He never wanted to think about _that_ ever again.

“Clara,” Jacob faked a smile, coming closer to the girl at the same time she stepped back, “I see you found our _friend_.”

“You’ve gone too far, Jacob.” The cat was slightly slipping from her hold as she tried adjusting Mr. Tinkles, and Jacob wondered if the cat had always been that fat. He couldn’t tell; the last time he picked him up it felt like air, then again he was stronger than the little girl. “What do you have against Mr. Tinkles?”

He could only stare at her incredulously. “What do I—Clara, that thing violated my body, stole my necklace, pissed in my hat—”

“Is that why you smell funny?” she giggled.

“Nevermind that! How can you ever feel any sympathy for him? I’m the one suffering here!”

She set the cat down on the ground, making Jacob on edge as the cat glared at him before strolling upstairs to who knows where. “Have you ever considered that maybe he doesn’t like you because you’ve insulted and frightened him?”

“So? Not everyone likes cats Clara. Besides, I don’t see why you’re angry at me when that beast tore apart every furniture in this place.”

“Only because you attacked him with a razor!” she screamed. “And may I remind you that _you_ also had a part in it. You scared all of my customers! They’ll think I’m housing a lunatic, and it’ll be bad for business.”

He wanted to spit out another comeback, but his hand fell to his side when he couldn’t come up with anything. _Shit, she’s right about that. Since when did I start losing to a twelve year-old?_

“I still dislike him,” he childishly concluded, arms crossed over his chest. “And you won’t stop me from getting rid of him.”

A pained screech from upstairs stopped the argument from escalating any further. Clara nervously peered back at the staircase, hands over her mouth. “Mr. Tinkles!”

“Clara, wait! It could be dangerous.” Jacob ran after the girl, pushing past her as he stopped in front of the closed door where the cat continued groaning.

It came from his room.

“Jacob, move over!” Her small hands trying steering him aside, grunting from his massive weight as he stood firmly planted to the floorboard.

“Wait, someone might be on the other side.”

“I don’t hear anything. You’re just saying that because you want him dead quicker.”

 _Not a bad idea._ As much as he wanted the devil dead for everything he has done to him, Jacob couldn’t stand the feeble cries of the young barmaid from behind as she tried shoving his back away. Why did he have to have a soft spot for children?

“Alright, stay close behind me.” He picked the lock of his room with his hidden blade, tugging the metallic weapon inside the lock as he picked around the knob. A small smile broke out on his face when they heard a soft ‘click’ resound in the hallway, and he pushed the door aside with his broad shoulder, blades ready for action.

No one occupied the room, but the cat lay there on top of the soaked sheets, hacking up hairballs on his bed.

“THAT’S IT!” Jacob, ignoring Clara’s surprised gasp, made a swipe at the cat, only to have the orange ball of fur leap over his shoulder and run out of the room. “I’VE HAD IT WITH THAT PEST!”

“JACOB!” He zoned out her angry scream, instead sprinting down the steps and keeping his eyes focused on the cat as it wobbled out onto the streets with all the bustle.

Everyone stopped to stare at the lunatic chasing around a cat, moving away from the scene whenever he came near them. Jacob didn’t care for their intruding gazes, his mission was solely targeted on slaughtering the cat once he grasped it by the legs.

“I’m going to chop your head off!”

This game of cat-and-mouse went on for nearly ten minutes, with Jacob failing in his attempts to capture the creature. He was starting to slow down, already out of breath as his hand supported his heaving sides, swallowing back lungful of air into his system. He leaned against a lamppost, glowering at the cat on the street who was smugly grinning from its victory.

“Damn . . . you . . .” Jacob said between breaths, flicking his middle finger off at Mr. Tinkles for good measure.

This seemed to infuriate the cat; Mr. Tinkles gave one long growl before swiftly leaping over to him.

“Shit!” Jacob shielded his face, preparing for its claws to dig into his skin and screw him over.

People all around him cried out, making Jacob bring down his hands and watch as a fast-moving carriage ran over the cat, the vehicle bouncing up from the weight underneath the wheel. Through all the hysteria, a shit-eating grin spread across his entire face as he stared at the unmoving creature on the street with wheel-marks all over its fur.

 _Hallelujah!_ He could just kiss the driver for finally killing the mongrel. He was free!

“MR. TINKLES!” Clara yelled from behind, mouth agape from the dead animal on the cobblestone. Tears pooled in her eyes, and before Jacob could expect any of her hateful remarks, she grabbed the fabric of his trench coat and sobbed.

“It’s alright, he’s in a better place,” he soothingly replied, patting the girl on the head. At least she wasn't angry at him for Mr. Tinkles' death. He shuddered when he heard her blow her nose profusely—he will have to wash his coat now thanks to her.

Jacob looked back as he heard footsteps behind him, gesturing towards the dead cat on the road as he saw their questioning stares. “Mr. Tinkles got ran over.”

“Oh Clara, I’m so sorry.” Evie crouched down on her knees, collecting the sobbing girl into her arms, gently rubbing her back while the girl refused to meet her apologetic gaze.

“P-poor Mr. Tinkles!” she hoarsely replied, hiccupping into Evie’s shoulder.

Henry coughed from behind, grabbing everyone’s attention except for Jacob’s, who was too busy celebrating the fact that the creature was out of their lives forever. “I hope this cheers everyone up.”

Jacob hadn’t been listening, eyes delightfully roaming over the corpse of the animal on the road. Only when he heard incessant cooing did he divert his attention. “Hmm, did you say something?”

Soft meows made his blood run cold, his head slowly peering behind him at the basket in Henry’s arms where everyone circled around him. Thoughts immediately circled through his head as the purrs rang in his ears even louder.

He paled at the tiny heads, mentally counting in his mind at how many there where.

“Eleven . . .” he whispered.

“They’re adorable! I never knew Mr. Tinkles—Ms. Tinkles—was pregnant!” Clara stroked their little heads, giggling at their content purrs as they licked her fingers. "This is the best surprise ever!"

“This clearly is a surprise indeed,” Evie commented.

_Eleven . . ._

Henry nodded. “Yes, I found them in Jacob’s room. Quite a mess in there.”

They all stared back at Jacob, concerned when the male assassin only stared at the kittens, muttering the word ‘eleven’ over and over again, as if he was on an endless loop.

“Oh dear god, eleven. ELEVEN KITTENS!”

Even in death, Mr. Tinkles was still able to make his life miserable by presenting his demon spawns into the world. Jacob realized that he would never be free from the devil’s work, and the paranoia slowly sunk into his mind as he started hyperventilating.

So he did the only thing he could do at the moment . . .

. . .

“He fainted?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jacob, he never gets a rest XD


End file.
